


Switched

by military_bluebells



Series: Generation Kill Week [3]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bodyswap, First Kiss, Generation Kill Week, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: Ray blamed Walt for the whole disaster.Walt was supposed to be Ray’s common sense, the voice of reason telling Ray not to do the stupid things his fucked up, whiskey tango brain came up with. Unfortunately for him, Walt had gone out on a goddamn date. The situation was made a thousand times worse by the fact that finals were over, so Ray had nothing better to do than get drunk and mess with his magic.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Series: Generation Kill Week [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967950
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Switched

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: Humvee/ College/High-school AU/ **Bodyswap**

Ray blamed Walt for the whole disaster. 

Walt was supposed to be Ray’s common sense, the voice of reason telling Ray not to do the stupid things his fucked up, whiskey tango brain came up with. Unfortunately for him, Walt had gone out on a goddamn date. The situation was made a thousand times worse by the fact that finals were over, so Ray had nothing better to do than get drunk and mess with his magic. Now, he was no Nate Fick, but he liked to think he wasn’t awful at magic. For whatever reason, it came to Ray like second nature, the long-worded spell came off his tongue without hesitation and the shorter ones were easy to mentally cast. 

He was also alone and bored: watching Friends wasn’t as fun when Walt wasn’t there to quote it with him. He reached over to the coffee table to pick up the zen book Rudy'd lent him. Rudy was a nature caster, skilled at all things involving herbs, potions, and emotional zen. Ray was more of a physical caster, focused on making shit happen. The book was still a good read though: Ray bookmarked a few casts here and there, and the theory behind it wasn’t too confusing for his slightly inebriated mind. He flipped onto a new page, sipping his fourth or fifth beer. On the page was a detailed drawing of two people, back to back, with writing along the side in what Ray thought was Latin. He usually worked in Ancient Greek and Old Norse or even just plain English. He did know a little bit of Latin from his random reading habits, so he sounded out the words, speaking them aloud. 

He’d just finished the sentence when his phone buzzed beside him. Brad. Ray read the message from the home screen. 

> Don’t do anything stupid while I’m out

Ray could almost hear the tone. He snorted, chugging the rest of his beer. Brad was probably out getting laid by some curvy chick with big tits and pump lips, who giggled and drank those fruity fucking cocktails. Ray opened another beer, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. Brad could fuck whoever he liked: it wasn’t any of Ray’s business. He tried not to feel bitter: Brad wasn’t his, never would be. 

Ray was just the best friend. 

He chugged the last of that beer, feeling a little dizzy and a little sick and a little empty. He switched off the TV and flopped back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Fuck, he wasn’t an emotional pansy ass homosexual who pined after the guy he’d never have. He sighed, maybe he just needed to get laid, maybe this pining was coming from a state of sexual frustration. There was that hot guy in his electrical engineering class or that girl in his philosophy class with her hair dip dyed green. He ignored his logic that had suddenly appeared, telling him that a three-year long crush stopped being about sexual frustration two years and eleven months ago. 

He sighed and pulled the blanket Walt insisted on having over the back of the couch over him. It was probably to cover the massive red stain: Ray had dropped an open pack of fake blood over it last Halloween. Wiggling into the cushions, Ray closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. 

-

He woke up in a bed. With another person pressed against his back.A person with tits. Ray blinked at the wall opposite him, at its muted purple paint. 

What the fuck. 

He blinked again, for a second longer, and opened his eyes but purple paint was still there. He could have sworn he'd gone to sleep on his shitty couch, drunk off his ass. He was sober at least. And naked. Very naked. 

He looked down and stared at the chest in front of him. It wasn’t his chest, too pale and smooth looking, his _No Dice_ and stars missing. He looked to his arm and the anchor and the compass were gone too. There was also a long stretch of flat muscle where sharp hipbones should have been. If the person – chick – hadn’t been pressed against his back, he would've moved to look at what else had gone. Said chick hummed against him and suddenly twisted, leaving Ray’s back cold. He sighed in relief and carefully pushed himself up. He glanced around the bedroom; it was girly and definitely not his or any of his friends, unless Rudy had suddenly painted his room purple to make his inner spirit. The rest of this body was blank, no tattoos anywhere. The dick was pretty big, almost Iceman big… 

Ray blinked and quickly scanned the room. There was a standing mirror in one corner and Ray, carefully, rushed over to it. He almost fell on his face because he was taller, his limbs much longer. He stood in front of the mirror and tried not to gape. 

It was Brad. He was Brad. 

Ray hesitantly touched the strands of blond hair, staring at the ice blue eyes looking back at him. He looked like Brad but his expression was his, Ray’s. Fuck. 

The chick in the bed, not at all like he’d imaged - thin with small tits and thick brown hair a shade or so lighter than Ray’s – huffed and curled tighter in the sheet. Ray put a lid on his existential crisis, at least until he got out of this chick house. He grabbed Brad’s clothes off the floor, fucker had gone commando last night apparently, and pulled them on. Brad’s phone was still in his pocket as was his wallet. Ray grabbed Brad’s jacket and slipped out of the bedroom as carefully as he could because his balance was still fucked. Brad was fucking gigantic. He considered leaving a note or something but decided that Brad wouldn’t even have thought about it. 

The sun was up and Ray checked Brad’s phone display. Six thirty. Of course, Brad couldn’t sleep in even after getting laid. 

Ray’s next problem was the fact that he had no idea where the fuck he was. He stood on the sidewalk like an idiot for a minute and scanned the roads. He’d never seen this place in his life. He closed his eyes, swallowing back a little panic when he heard something familiar. He tilted his head to the side and focused on the sound. 

Crashing waves. 

He listened for another couple of seconds, but he was sure it was waves: Brad had dragged him to the beach enough times that he could hear the sounds in his sleep. He made his way towards the sound, cutting down a narrow street and coming out onto the promenade. He breathed in the slightly salt air and looked out into the sea. He had to admit, it was kind of beautiful this early in the morning. He looked up and down the beach, familiarizing himself with the buildings. He was closer to the airport than usual, so he turned and started down in the opposite direction. There were quite a few people out, why Ray didn’t know. Most were surfing, getting the early waves like Brad usually would. 

Ray fished Brad’s phone out of his front pocket and tried Brad’s birthday. 

_Incorrect Pin._

Ray sighed and put in Nate’s, and again it flashed with _Incorrect Pin_. He gave up after putting in 1234: he didn’t want to lock Brad out of his phone. Slipping it back into his pocket, he decided to take Brad’s shoes off and walk in the sand. His body – this was so fucking weird – wouldn’t be waking up for a while yet, especially after the beers he had last night. He pictured Brad’s response to waking up in Ray’s body, assuming that was how this worked, and chuckled. He paused and rubbed his throat: it was weird to hear Brad’s chuckle not his own. 

He slipped Brad’s shoes back on as he neared the path to their house. He would’ve walked barefoot on the concrete, but he wasn’t in his own body and it seemed rude to fuck Brad’s feet up. The keys to the front door were in his back pocket and he fished them out, unlocking the door. 

It was an out of body experience – ha – to see himself sprawled out on the couch, the blanket shoved around his legs, his chest covered but his arms out. His body was still dressed in t-shirt and sweatpants, so the spell hadn’t made them naked spontaneously. He – Brad – was still out cold, his mouth slightly agape. Ray shook his head and went to fix himself – _Brad_ – a coffee, because he was going to need it with a hangover. He considered making one for himself, but Brad’s body was wired to run this early, so he felt fine without his fix of caffeine. 

He spied Rudy’s zen book on the coffee table, surrounded by empty beer cans. He picked it up, feeling the _zap_ of magic. It felt like his, warm and smooth, but instead of winding up his arm like it usually did, it remained static, swirling around the book. 

Ray smacked himself on the head: it was his magic, but he wasn’t in the body that it belonged to. He flipped through the pages gingerly, expecting his magic to reject Brad’s own, but it didn’t. As he got to the page he’d been on, the two naked humans less blurry without four or five beers, his magic snaked in between his fingers, hovering over his hands but travel no further. Strange. 

He reached his hand out and summoned the Latin dictionary on their shelf. In retrospect, it wasn’t a good idea to use Brad’s magic when he had no idea what it did. Unlike Ray’s magic, Brad’s was sharp, a cold twist that zapped into his fingers and up through his veins. The blue glow, instead of flowing on the outside of his arm like Ray’s, crawled under his skin, barely visible. The book came all the same, but instead of flying at Ray’s hand, it flowed along like it was being carried by a current. 

“Okayyy.” Ray said, wincing when Brad’s voice registered. 

He spent some time translating the spell in full, and the results weren’t ideal. Fuck, he was fucked because if he was translating this right, they’re bound to these ‘vessels’ until their ‘bond’ can be fully completed, whatever the fuck _that_ meant. 

It was at that point – when Ray was starting have a little bit of a fucking crisis – that Brad chose to wake up. He stretched then paused, before turning his head to stare at Ray – at his own body. 

“Right, don’t freak out, I can totally fix this.” 

“Ray.” It was weird to hear his own voice make Brad’s tone. “ _What_ did you do?” 

“Nothing I can’t fix,” Ray stressed, because that’s the most important part even if it wasn’t strictly true. Brad’s look didn’t really translate as well from Ray’s face: he wasn’t about to be frightened by his own fucking face. He pushed on, “It just seems that when I was a little drunk last night, I accidently cast a spell from Rudy’s zen book, which switched our consciousnesses into the other’s body.” 

“And how are you going to fix it?” 

Ray blinked, “Well, I haven’t got that far yet.” 

Brad narrowed his eyes and Ray had to admit that was a little intimidating. Why didn’t his face do that when he used it? Brad threw off the blanket and wobbled to his feet. He looked around like he was trying to orientate himself. Ray could understand, it must be a jolt to wake up six inches shorter. His body looked like shit though: his hair looked like a bird’s nest and he had dark circles under his eyes, skinny limbs poking out baggy clothes. 

Brad twisted and grouched, “Are you incapable of sleeping in a normal bed?” 

“Homes, I was drunk off my ass and tired as fuck.” Ray justified. Brad gave him a look and walked towards the hallway to Ray’s bedroom. He misjudged one of the turns though and bumped into the side of the couch. Ray chuckled and Brad glared at him over his shoulder. He understood now why no one took his glares seriously, he looked like a pissed off kitten. 

“Don’t sneak a peek, homes!” Ray yelled down the corridor. It was a little hypocritical, but Brad had a cock to be proud of whereas his was about average and he knew Brad won’t hesitate to drag him for it. 

_“Like I want to see your disease-ridden cock.”_ Ray’s own voice echoed back at him and he winced. 

Deciding that he needed all the energy he could get, Ray walked into the kitchen and pulled out a frying pan, two plate, a bowl, and a set of eggs. He went to gently crack the egg on the side of the bowl, but it burst violently, and egg covered his hand. Ray grimaced as the slime slid in between his finger and he stuck it under the faucet. Turned out Brad’s body had more strength than needed but on the second try Ray managed to get the egg in the bowl. The third went easier and he flicked some butter into the pan and turn up the heat. He carefully whisked the egg – Brad’s body also seemed stiffer than his own – and poured it into the pan. He added some ham and when it had browned, he slipped it out onto a plate before putting it on the table with a glass of orange juice. He paused before moving the glass to another spot and filling a mug with milk. He turned and made himself an omelette too. 

He sat down, moving his legs to fit better: Brad’s limbs had no fucking business being this long. Brad emerged from the corridor, having added a hoodie to his clothes. He paused and looked across at him. 

“I made breakfast.” 

Brad rolled his eyes, “I can see that Ray, even with your shitty eyesight.” 

“Hey!” Ray crowed, “My eyesight’s 20/20.” Brad sat down awkwardly and stared at the glass. Ray waved to it with his fork, “It’s an experiment, I want to see if our taste buds are ours or not.” Brad nodded and grasped the glass, taking an experimental sip. 

“Not.” Brad said. Ray nodded and took sip of the orange juice. Brad was right, the juice tasted much better than he remembered it being. They ate and drank in silence and Ray considered their options. He decided straight away that even though it was going to be embarrassing as fuck, they needed to talk to Rudy since this type of magic was his speciality. 

Ray froze suddenly and turned to his right just as the front door open. Walt stepped in, his hair a little mussed and his clothes just a little too winkled to have not spent the night on the floor. He looked across at them and smiled, 

“Hey Brad, I didn’t know you comin' round.” 

“It wasn’t my choice.” Ray’s voice said in Brad’s longsuffering tone. Walt blinked, looking between the two of them with a confused look. 

Ray sighed, “Homes, some funky shit happened, and I wholeheartedly blame you.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes you, you’re supposed to be my common sense and you left me to make hot, steamy love to Felicity.” Ray whined. It sounded even funnier in Brad’s voice. 

Walt blinked again, “What's happened?” 

“We’ve swapped consciousness because Ray got drunk and decided it was a good idea to mess with magic he didn’t understand.” Ray’s voice didn’t replicate Brad’s dry tone quite as well, but Ray gave his body a solid B+ for effort. 

Walt nodded slowly and dropped his keys and wallet in the small, chipped bowl by the door. “What sort of magic?” 

“Rudy’s zen shit.” Ray waved to the book sitting innocently on the coffee table. Walt wandered over to it and picked it up. He immediately dropped it and shook his hand with a grimace. 

“Hey, you alright?” Ray asked. 

“Yeah, your magic just spat at me is all.” 

Ray furrowed his brows: Brad’s magic hadn’t been rejected but that could be to do with the spell. 

“Here.” Brad reached out and Ray jumped to warn him. The book jumped off the coffee table and started fly at them. Brad’s eyes widened and the book dropped, skidded across the floor, hitting the leg of Ray’s chair. He reached down to pick it up and Walt and Brad both called ‘Ray!’ but like before his own magic reached out and mixed with Brad’s. They were both staring at him when he put the book on the table. 

“Why didn’t it zap you?” Walt asked. 

Ray shrugged, “I guess it has to do with the spell since it involves the two of us.” Walt cocked his head but didn’t say anything. “I was thinking about calling Rudy since it’s his book and he’d be up right now to do his sun salutations.” 

-

Rudy appeared at their front door half an hour later. Again, Ray was the first to hear him and was already at the door by the time Rudy knocked. They didn’t even have to explain because Rudy took one look at them and said, 

“Brothers, your auras have switched.” 

“Yeah no shit.” 

They explained the situation as best they could and Rudy nodded along with the perfect poker face. He got Brad to open the book since it was Ray’s magic that was attached to it. Brad opened the page that Ray pointed to and Rudy knelt by the coffee table and poured over the text. Ray decided to sit on the back of the couch, which was a little harder because Brad’s body weighed more than his own so he had to find the right angle not to tip it over. Rudy’s face went through a series of emotions, none that filled Ray with confidence. 

“Well?” Brad asked, crossing his arms over his chest. It didn’t look nearly as cool in Ray’s body. 

“It’s a bonding spell usually used for arranged marriages and it says that the effects can be reversed if the bond is completed.” 

“What does that mean?” Brad demanded as Ray's brain - Brad's brain - caught on the _arranged marriages_ part. 

“I don’t know brother,” Rudy said honestly, “but from that I can understand, it centres around secrets, so maybe telling each other any secrets you’ve kept from each other with complete it.” 

Ray rose an eyebrow to mask how the bottom had just dropped out of his stomach. The only major secret he’d kept from Brad was that he was in love with him. Which means that he’d have to tell him to reverse the spell. Fan-fucking-tastic. He was a little appraised by the fact that his face – and by extension, Brad – looked just as uncomfortable at the idea. 

“Brad,” Ray said seriously, “it was me that drenched your ex-girlfriend with the fountain.” 

Brad snorted, “Ray, I knew it was you.” 

Ray waited a second and looked down at his chest, “Nope, that didn’t work, what else you got?” 

Walt coughed pointedly and Ray tried not to twitch, “Why don’t we get some book from the library, it’ll be open in half an hour? Rudy?” It wasn’t subtly but Rudy caught on quickly and nodded, moving towards the door after agreeing. Walt traced something in the air with his finger – more subtly thank fuck – and sent it along the floor, up and into the palm of Ray’s hand. It was how they communicated when in class or when they couldn’t hear each other over music or their friends. Brad was looking into the kitchen, so Ray sneaked and glared at Walt’s retreating figure, closing his hand quickly to cover the glowing pink heart on his palm. Walt made a gesture and gave him a stern look; Ray flipped him off just as Brad turned back to him. 

The door closed with an ominous bang and silence reigned apart from the ticking of a clock. He made eye contact by mistake and then he couldn’t look away. It was weird to be staring into his own eyes rather than Brad’s icy blues, but he could see _Brad_ in them, almost as clearly as ever. Maybe it was because he spent so much time learning Brad’s expression, hungry to know how to read Brad, to know what he was thinking. 

“So, have you been hiding a secret wife, a love child?” Ray joked. The corner of his mouth twitched up but Brad was still looking, well Ray didn’t know: there was an element of shyness – like how he used to get around his ex-girlfriend – and hesitancy, and something else, something he’d never seen before. 

“Okay, what’s with that look?” 

Brad’s sudden blankness looked creepy on Ray's face, “What look?” 

Ray snorted, “That look, like – fuck I don’t know.” 

Brad shifted in the chair and looked down. Ray narrowed his eyes because Brad didn’t fidget or avoid eye contact, in fact he made a point of maintaining eye contact until his victims pissed themselves. Ray climbed off the couch and sat onto the coffee table directly in front of Brad, so that their knee bumped against each other. 

“Homes, you know I’d help you if you did have a kid, right?” 

Brad snorted and then Ray’s face did the weird thing that Brad did sometimes, where his eyes opened just a little more, the crease between his eyebrows disappearing, the corners of his mouth tilting up just that little bit. It was just so Brad that Ray felt his lips tilting up on one side in response. 

“That isn’t it.” Brad said softly. 

Ray rose an eyebrow and leaned forward, his elbow braced against his knees, “You know I’ll get over whatever it is, even if you’ve fucked my mom.” 

Brad choked, “I wouldn’t fuck your mother even if I was paid to.” 

“You say that homes, but you’ve never met my mom.” 

“Ray, would you shut up for one minute?” Ray snapped his mouth shut and waited, focusing on the cold curl of Brad’s magic under his skin. Brad sighed and his hand fidgeted again, and Ray could see the orange-red glow of his own magic glowing on the inside of his wrist. “I’m in love with you.” 

Ray blinked and he could have sworn it was Brad’s mouth that had said that not his own. He took a second to wish it was true before replying, “Nice one homes, but seriously what’s the secret you’re keeping from your Ray-Ray?” 

He watched his own face close off and Brad stared at him, his jaw twitching, “That's the secret.” 

“What? No you’re not.” 

Brad blinked at him and gave him that ‘Ray, you’re being a dumb fucking hick’ face, “Ray, I think I of all people would know.” 

Ray stood up and turned to pace, “But that’s makes like zero sense, I mean I think I would have noticed since I’ve been in love with you for two years now.” It slipped out and Ray froze. There was an intake of breath behind him and his own voice, soft and disbelieving. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Ah,” Ray said, turning on his heels, “that I’ve been in love with you for the past two years?” 

Brad stared at him and stood up. Ray shuffled his feet as Brad took several steps closer. It was weird to be towering over Brad and not standing on a chair or something. 

“You never-” 

“I didn’t want to, I mean first you’d broken up with _her_ and then you were fucking every prostitute in the area, then you have that like friends with benefits shit with Nate last year and it never felt like a right time.” 

Brad nodded, “I thought you were dating Walt until I started to hear about Felicity.” 

Ray choked, “What?” Brad looked sheepishly off to the side. Ray laughed because what else was he supposed to do. “I mean Walt’s really hot but he’s also really into pussy so,” he waved a hand. Brad snorted and they were looking at each other properly. Ray really wished they’d been in their own bodies for this. Their own bodies. 

“Wait, shouldn’t we have switched back by now?” 

“Yes.” Brad replied and he rose an eyebrow. 

“Hey, don’t look at me, I don’t have any other major secrets to do with you, unless it’s stuff like I have a hard-on for your abs and shit.” 

“I like how small you are.” Brad replied with a grin. 

“Fuck off, Brad.” Ray laughed. Brad rolled his eyes. Ray grinned at him and then an idea popped into his head. “Wanna try a kiss?” Brad rose both his eyebrows. Ray shrugged, “Hey, it worked for Snow White.” 

“Snow White is a fictional character who was under a sleeping spell, Ray, not a bonding spell.” 

“It’s worth a go, even if technically I’ll be kissing myself, which if you think about it, is a narcissist’s wet dream.” 

He went to continue but a pair of hands grabbed the sides of his neck and pulled him forward. Ray closed his eyes and leaning into the kiss. His own lips were a little chapped, but Brad must have brushed his teeth because when Ray coaxed his mouth open, it tasted like mint. Ray grabbed the pair of hips in front of him – too thin to be Brad’s – and committed himself. He felt Brad’s magic swell under his skin, the ice-cold chill running down his spine. His head buzzed and between one breath and another, the lips against his went from hot to ice-cold. Ray pulled away and opened his eyes half a second faster than Brad. Opposite him was ice blue eyes, blond hair and a soft smile. 

“Holy shit, that actually worked!” Ray burst, jumping when his own voice accompanied it. He furrowed his eyebrows because he was the same height as Brad. He looked down and burst in laughter. “Really, the coffee table, after all that shit you give me about putting my feet on your furniture.” 

Brad grinned, “I made do.” 

“Fuck come here,” Ray said, leaning back in. Brad laughed but he leaned in too. Kissing Brad was much better than kissing himself, even if he had actually been kissing Brad. He didn’t know, he’d need a beer or three to understand any of the things that had happen in the last ten hours – though not with Rudy’s zen book in the house. He wrapped his arms around Brad’s neck and focused on kissing the shit out of Brad. He felt hands grab his thighs and at the urging he hopped off the coffee table to wrap his legs around Brad’s waist. The hands strayed to his ass and his head rushed a little as they went down onto the couch. 

“How don’t you burn alive?” Brad asked between kisses. 

“Huh?” Ray said as he kissed Brad’s jaw. 

“Your magic felt like I was burning from the inside.” 

Ray huffed, “Yeah, well your limbs are way too long.” 

Brad chuckled and then Ray found himself on his back, Brad looming over him with one hand either side of his head. “Are you complaining?” 

“Nah,” Ray said softly, rubbing his hand against the back of Brad’s neck. Brad hummed and leant down, kissing the tip of one of the stars on his chest. He looked up and Ray recognised that look – back on the face it belonged to – and realised what it meant. Brad was looking at him with love. Ray smiled to himself and tipped his chin up pointedly. They’d have to call Walt and Rudy and tell them that to crisis was over, but it could wait. Ray had better things to be doing.

**Author's Note:**

> Tomorrow: Day 4: Uniform/ Strippers AU/ Pretend Dating/Married


End file.
